


The Ides

by HelloIAmHereToObserve



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Vamp!Laura, m for languange, m for potential violence, morally gray Laura
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:34:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4625523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloIAmHereToObserve/pseuds/HelloIAmHereToObserve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometime in the nebulous future, vampires have hit daylight. The government is trying to figure out what to do with them, people are scared, and some folks might have an interest in taking advantage of the chaos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Easy mark

 

“All right, people, bag and tag her!”

Laura snarled into the musty carpet, struggling to free her hands, but they were zap strapped and it was taking longer than she liked. Two guys the size of pickup trucks were holding her legs, while a girl perched precariously on her upper back as she bucked, trying to dislodge her assailants.

“She's a little rambunctious, sir,” the girl on her shoulders snarked, grabbing a fistful of Laura's hair. She growled dangerously, but she had three elephant tranquilizers in her, and they knew it was all show.

“Jesus, I gotta hold your hand McArthur? Dose her again!”

Another tranq went in, and the general haze and wooziness finally really hit her. She was vaguely aware that she was drooling into the carpet, and that there was something cold and cylindrical pushing into the back of her neck, just at the base of her skull. Sharp, near-blinding pain, and then her captors were standing up.

“Carm?” She croaked out, struggling to turn her head. She was on the floor. Why was she on the floor? People were talking, but none of them were Carmilla.

“Carm?” She asked again, louder. Everything would be ok. Carmilla would be there, cool hands and soft lips, and none of this would matter. She could vaguely hear a distant thudding noise, flesh against steel, and muffled, incoherent screaming. A door slammed, then car doors, and then there was the rumble of an engine starting up. Why was she on the floor again?

_Focus, Hollis, holy shit. They're just tranquilizers._

She scooted her knees up toward her impossibly heavy head, and managed to lift her torso off the floor. Yes, she was definitely drooling. Her head flopped uselessly at the end of her neck, and she growled in frustration.

The car – van? - was gone, taking the goons with it. That was a small mercy.

“Carm, are you ok?” Laura slurred, trying to lift her head; she was greeted with complete, impossible silence. Carmilla may have been quiet as the grave, but even the grave makes noise; wind on grass, birds in the trees, soft dripping water. There was nothing, no tic of the hand, no muttered cursing.

She was gone.

Laura snapped her head up, suddenly much more sober than she had been, and her stomach lurched unpleasantly.

“Carm?!” The house was so empty it hurt, hurt her straining ears, her prickling skin.

They'd been staying with LaF, Jeep and Perry. There had been reports, and then their apartment in Paris had been trashed, and... at least the tree of them were out on date night. _Fuck, Jeep_. He'd be next, if they hadn't got him already.

She staggered to her feet. The scissors were in the kitchen, ten feet down the hall, but it might have been a mile for all her feet would comply with her requests. She needed her hands. She was going to put them around every single one of those fuckers' necks... she had hardly noticed she was crying by the time she made it to the kitchen. The drugs were wearing off, at least, but the van had more than ten minutes on her, and they could be heading anywhere.

Finding the scissors was another challenge - LaF had apparently been the last one to use the kitchen, because there were scraps of notes, vials and flasks, and an alarming number of half-melted utensils scattered on every available surface. Laura bit back a scream of frustration and dutifully began sorting through the junk.

She finally found them under a biomechanics weekly magazine, struggled them into her hands, and managed to cut the (many, many) ties holding her wrists. The skin was rubbed raw and red, but she didn't have time to dwell.

The heat from the friction of the tires on pavement had dissipated; there were faint, oh-so faint boot prints, but they were useless to her.

She gritted her teeth and paced over the length of the drive, hoping to spot some residual heat, maybe at the curb, but there was none. What was she going to do, anyway? As soon as the van reached an areterial road the tracks would get muddied in with a hundred others, and she'd never make heads or tails of it.

Clean getaway.

Her butt hit the pavement. She felt dizzy again, and it had nothing to do with the tranqs.

They had Carmilla.

The damn Corvae Corporation had her.

 


	2. Under duress

“Hold still, I can't get a good enough look at it.”

Laura struggled not to move, but her nerves were getting to her. She needed to be doing something, anything, anything that wasn't just sitting here.

“It looks like it's probably a tracking chip of some kind,” LaF commented, prodding the bump along her spine with expert fingers. She clenched her teeth as a lance of pain shot up through her head. “It's pretty far in there, too.”

“It grates,” Laura gritted out. “I can feel it scraping when I move my head.”

“Ouch. In between the vertebra then. They really didn't want this to come out.”

“Something about it feels off,” J.P. offered cautiously. “It's not just mechanical, it also has... an aura.”

“What kind of... aura?” Perry was stress cleaning, reflexively picking up LaF's mess.

“The bad kind.”

“Oh good. So not only have they effectively reduced me to cattle, the chip is probably also posessed.” Laura dropped her head into her hands with a sigh. “Could this day get any better?”

“Well, the good news is we are aware of where the Corvae Corporation head office is,” Jeep said brightly.

“We could storm the tower, demand answers.”

“Or we could _go to the police,_ ” Perry sighed, flinging down a pair of beaker tongs. “Honestly, why do we always have to suit up for war the second something goes wrong?”

“In case you haven't noticed, Per, Carmilla is a vampire; one with a well documented, unflattering past. Pro-vamp sentiment isn't exactly high these days.”

Like any of them could forget. All it seemed was on the news these days were repoted vampire attacks, mobs accosting people in the street, and pro-human legislation. It was Vordenberg all over again, only on a national scale.

“There have been staged protests outside parliament – why not at Corvae?”

“And those went extremely well. I'm sure the immolations and wooden bullets were completely accidental.”

Laura's head was starting to ache, her jaw jumping. She'd always been prone to migraines, and the stress, the arguing, and the chip in her spinal column were not helping.

“Well, we have to do something,” she hopped down from the stool and collected her cell phone from the counter.

“Who are you calling?” Perry asked warily. There were only so many people equipped to deal with a crisis of this magnitude, and one of them was not high on her list of favourite people.

“Mattie,” Laura intoned grimly.

“Oh,” Perry sighed, “good.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand, a second little chapter for today, so there's a little more to read than just 750 words.


	3. Thine Enemy

The tower was right in the middle of the city, a monolith jutting up like a headstone, matte gray and ominous. Laura eyed it warily; they had to know she was here. There was a small protest happening, mostly tagged vamps and the people who cared about them, but also some folks who just didn't like Corvae. She'd been around to talk to some of them, get an idea of what was happening. Others had gone missing, snatched in the twilight, and everyone had an edge of fear in their voices. They were trying to keep the protest quiet, subdued, but the peace would only last so long.

It was half an hour before Laura spotted her target, standing grimly under an umbrella, dressed in her usual black, off to the side and across the street. Laura slipped in next to her quietly.

“Mattie.”

“ _Chou-chou_ ,” Matska planted a quick kiss on either cheek. She looked exhausted.

“What's happening?”

“You were right.” The admission sounded like it physically pained her, and Laura tried not to appear too smug. “These little ducklings are behind the smear campaign. I suspect first-hand experience with Vordenberg taught them a thing or two. Trifling nonsense – can you believe they're claiming we're dangerous?” Laura held her tongue on that one, but Mattie read her silence as though it were an autobiography. “Please, like you're so high and mighty. Unlike you, I haven't murdered anyone in decades. Not in cold blood, at least.”

It stung a little, and Laura fidgeted uncomfortably, but there were more important things to worry about than her thoroughly bruised ego and tattered conscience.

“And Carm?”

“Oddly, dear, they seemed awfully reticent on the subject. I simply cannot think of a singular reason why.”

“So they didn't say anything?” Laura sighed.

“I didn't say that. What they told me was next to useless, but the things they didn't tell me...” Mattie arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow at her.

“Enough with the games. What do you know?”

“I gather that Carmilla isn't the only one being held here; yes, held. You know Corvae are always trying to get their grubby, infantile hands on anything occult or supernatural.”

“Which you helped them to do.”

“Once, and only when it suited my needs. Never mind that. I think they have her captive, and there must be a reason for it.”

“Enlightening,” Laura deadpanned. God, she was even picking up Carmilla's avoidance tactics; rudeness and sass to get in the way of her churning guts and racing mind. “If that's everything...”

“It's not.”

Mattie chewed her tongue for a moment before glancing at Laura out of the corner of her eye with a sigh.

“I know we never see eye to eye,” and Laura heard the jab there. _Yes, I'm short, I get it_ , “but that is my sister in there, and you have not a single complacent bone in your admittedly tiny body. You were made to fight.”

“Matska, are you asking for my help?” She teased lightly, earning herself a dark glare.

“Yes. And in return, I will keep the press as otherwise occupied as I can. Round up your squad of _kinder_ , we're going to war.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeeaaaahhh, I know the chapters are awfully short. Looks like there's going to be a lot of them, though, so hopefully that makes up for it. As always, love to get feedback!


	4. War Council

 

In all the years that Perry had walked the earth, she had never seen someone so prone to accident as Laura Hollis. Everywhere she went, it seemed the girl was dogged by gremlins. A simple trip for ice cream could result in a four-block inferno, though there was some debate as to whether or not Carmilla had caused that, and neither of the vampires were willing to discuss the incident in question.

“Turn on the news,” Laura commanded, as Perry fussed over her, looking for serious injury. “I'm fine, Per.” She rubbed a bit of blackened skin on her arm and it sloughed off easily, wound already healed.

“You smell like a hillbilly bonfire,” Perry argued, clicking her tongue, “and half of your clothing is burnt.”

“I dodged most of the napalm...”

“Most??”

“... and besides, as Carm would say, vampire constitution.” She jerked her thumbs at herself with a wan grin. Perry eyed her hard – the cirles under her eyes were more pronounced than ever. She would have to make sure Laura was eating enough. “LaF, what's going on?”

“They're claiming riot started by vampires; the only bodies I see, though, look like civilians. What happened?”

“Someone with their face covered threw a rock at the building. The goons must have been just around the corner, they were there so fast.” Laura grimaced as she ran a hand through her hair, coming away with a handful, brittle and charred.

“Well, you made the internet news,” LaF was peeking over J.P.'s shoulder as he scrolled through something on the laptop.

“Yes, there are several photos and video clips of you removing people from the path of the flamethrowers.” The three of them turned to her with varying degrees of incredulity on their faces.

“What, like I was going to leave them? Shush, I can hear Mattie.”

“... simply appalling. Why, war, famine and politics kill more humans in a year than vampires have in written history.”

“What do you have to say about the riot at Corvae today?”

“All a very foolish misunderstanding. The protesters were there to discourage Corvae from supplying the right-wing with any more money for their pro-human legislation.”

“What about the allegations that known vampire and supernatural rights activist Laura Hollis was seen participating?”

“Completely unfounded. Please, the little lamb hasn't a mean bone in her body.”

Laura snorted at that.

“Don't you have a bias in that regard?”

“Why would I?”

“It's common knowledge you're her Dam, and she's been in a long-term relationship with your sister, Carmilla Karnstein.”

“I see your confusion; rest assured, miss Hollis and I have no sentimentality toward each other. Her current state of survival was a favour to my sister. Now, about this childish bill, the... Human Citizens Protection and Health Act...”

“Not to draw attention to the obvious, but why didn't she say anything about Carmilla being missing?” LaF asked, muting the t.v.

“Because, for once, she seems to think that beaurocracy and murder aren't the answers. She's diverting attention off Corvae so that we have room to work.” Laura tapped her fingers against her chin, frowning at the news, where Mattie was dithering on to the reporters about something or other. It was ingenious that she'd worked her way into a position where she could represent the vampire community; at least her talent for bullshit was being put to good use, but she still made Laura wary.

“We?” Perry asked faintly. “Will someone _please_ tell me why it always has to be us?”

“Because no one else will do it,” Laura clenched her jaw, putting her hand up to rub at the new addition to her spine. It hurt like hell to push on, but she did it anyway, a sharp reminder of everything that needed to get done.

“So, say we can somehow break in,” LaF starts slowly, eyes flicking between Perry and Jeep. “Into a very highly secure, military-like, occult-hoarding, secret society base. What happens if they're doing more than experimentation, or torture?”

“What do you mean,” Laura asked, hearing the bite in her tone.

“A lot can be learned from dead bodies,” LaF pointed out, bluntly enough that Jeep winced.

Laura pushed harder at the bump on her neck, grinding her teeth against the pain, against the hot anger creeping up in the pit of her stomach.

“Then,” she said darkly, “I do what I was made for.”

 


	5. Cavalry

 

Danny sipped her coffee, sunglasses firmly planted on her face, trying to hunker down over the table so she was less conspicuous. She'd braided her hair up under her hat, but there was nothing she could do about her height. At least it was sunny out; the coffee shop patio was packed full of people, enough that she probably wouldn't be noticed.

“Hey.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin. Laura was so... quiet, these days. And she prowled. And looked at you with those flat, calculating eyes that you saw on tigers at the zoo, as though she were trying to decide whether it was worth it to pop a straw into your jugular. She slipped into the seat across from Danny and accepted the offered coffee. She looked wound tight, edgy, perched on the end of her chair. Her eyes were bruised and shadowed, her skin pale and streched over her bones like tissue paper.

“You haven't been eating,” Danny accused, and Laura's eyes flicked off to the side tellingly.

“I'm fine.”

“You're not fine. And you'll be less fine if you snap and...”

Laura gave her a hard stare, and Danny quieted down, biting her bottom lip nervously. She should know better. She should know better than to mention that.

“I'll deal with it when I have time.”

“Let me just make a run to the hospital for you, I'm sure...”

“They're rationing, Danny. There's a shortage, or something. There are other people who need it more, and I'm not about to have you get clocked for me; you don't need to be on some list somewhere.”

Danny dropped her eyes to her coffee, fidgeted with the sleeve.

“I know you're nervous about it, but you can have some of mine.”

“I'm not _nervous_ about it; this is me saving your life.” Laura's eyes narrowed, pointedly not looking at Danny. Not at her neck, or her face, or thinking about how loud her heart sounded in her head. None of those things. “I don't have that kind of self control.” _Probably will never have that kind of self control._

“What are you going to do, then?”

“I told you, I'll deal with it when I have time.” Laura pushed on the bump in her spine. Yes, pain was good. Grounding. “So, what's the word?”

“I contacted a couple of the sisters, and put out the feelers. I think we can get a good-sized crowd.” Danny sipped her coffee. “Have you been in touch with Kirsch?”

“No; they've been watching him pretty hard.” She grimaced. He'd been pretty vocal early on, had yelled at a a couple of guys who were hassling Laura and Carmilla at the bar, and ended up instigating more than a couple bar brawls on their behalf. He'd quieted down lately, after some pretty insistent urging from the gang, but he was well known enough as a supporter; the building where he rented a basement suite got egged on the regular, and while he cheerfully said it was fine, they all knew it was a lie. Laura had done her best to make sure he knew how much his support was appreciated, visiting him as regularily as she could, skyping when she couldn't. They'd had him to stay for two weeks in Paris. But it would be a dead giveaway if she went to him and suddenly a mob formed with him and some of the Zetas in it, and he didn't need any more harassment. “I don't want to involve him in this if I don't have to.”

“Mmmm,” Danny hummed, fidgeting with her coffee cup again. “I hope you know what you're doing, Hollis.”

“Not even remotely,” she admitted, rubbing her face with her hands. “But Perry, LaF and Jeep are working on it as we speak, and I'm hopeful they'll have better suggestions that the one I had.”

“Which was?”

“Kill everybody.” Laura stood up, pushing her chair in and taking her coffee. “Thanks, Danny. I'll let you know more when we have more figured out.”

“No problem,” she replied lightly, trying to keep her head and her heartrate under control. “See you around, Hollis.”

“See you,” Laura slunk off, one hand in her pocket. The set of her shoulders, the way she held her head, made people part for her nervously, clearing a way in the sidewalk. It wasn't often that Danny saw her these days, what with living in Paris and then the activism she'd been taking part in, but it seemed every time she did there was less of the Laura she'd known and more of the predator she'd come to expect, and it was making her nervous.

Suddenly, she wasn't so sure she was doing the right thing.

 


	6. Crises of Conscience

 

“Do you ever think that maybe they're right?”

Carmilla turned he head to regard her girlfriend. She was wearing that look on her face, the one she got when everything caught up with her and she didn't have the heart left to deal with it. She was staring at a sign plastered up in a restaurant window. Carmilla gave it a cursory glance.

_Pas des vampires_.

She curled her lip disdainfully.

“No.”

Laura gave her a quick sideways glance, a flick of her eyes, and it said more to Carmilla than all her rambling ever had.

“You said it yourself; we're monstrous. Dangerous.”

“Mmmm. A dog can be dangerous; tigers are dangerous. Cars, bears, spiders and skydiving are dangerous. We, at least, behave not only according to our nature, but according to social convention. We are reasonable, bribeable, changeable. You don't see people storming the streets to rid the world of dogs or cars or a myriad of other things. Why should they target us? Childish.” She ripped the sign down and discarded it offhandedly.

“But dogs give people love and loyalty, tigers are part of a complex ecosystem, and cars are at least _useful_. All we do is hurt, and hurt.”

“You didn't seem to think that way when we were at university.” Carmilla curled her arm around Laura's hips, tucking her thumb into the belt loop and using it to steer her away down the sidewalk.

“I didn't have first hand experience then.”

“Look, cupcake; has being a vampire changed how much you love your friends? No. And we _are_ a part of a complicated ecosystem – we help keep the human population in check. Not that we're doing a great job at it. And our usefulness, as it were, comes in the form of experience, patience, and our ability to plan well into the future. These are not small contributions.”

“But we murder people,” Laura protested.

“It's not murder when a tiger does it; it's nature. I'm not saying we should go around sucking people dry,” she held up her hands to stem Laura's protests. “Anything but. Believe me, I have more than enough guilt to last me centuries. But you're trying to impose human behaviour onto us. That's like blaming the car instead of the driver, the dog instead of the trainer. You're looking at the symptoms, not the cause.”

Laura chewed her lip thoughtfully, staring at the sidewalk, unseeing.

“I wish you had been there,” she said finally, voice cracking. “You wouldn't have... I wouldn't have...”

“I know, Laura,” Carmilla murmured, pushing her face into Laura's neck. She smelled different these days – honeyed decay, decadent rot. “Me too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Li'l bit extra for today. Feel like I need to get these out as fast as I can, because who even knows what's going to happen in the next ten episodes. As always, comments are very much appreciated!


	7. Captive Audience

“Please stop,” a voice crackled over the intercom. Carmilla glared at the corner it had come from, mounted just above a cctv camera that resembled a panzer. Both were protected by a layer of bulletproof glass. She could get into it, if she wanted, rip it all down and cram it up the ass of the next idiot that walked through her cell door, but aside from the blood bags delivered to her mail slot through a security system that resembled an airlock, she'd had no contact with her captors for three days, and she wanted answers.

“Why should I?” She asked nonchalantly, slamming her hands on the steel wall again, trying to find give in it. It was unbelievably thick, backed by something soft and pliable, and through the reverbrations she was sure she could hear concrete beyound that, and then... who knew? She leant her ear up against it in the hopes that it would help her hear a flaw, a gap in the defenses.

“It's very annoying.”

“And that's supposed to convince me to stop?” She slammed her hands again, harder, and smirked as the speaker crackled at her.

“We will have your co-operation, or we will sedate you.”

She snorted. They were already drugging her. She'd woken up so woozy and ill that she jumped on the blood bag as soon as it had flopped through the mail slot in her cell door. By the time she'd figured out that they'd put something in it, two thirds of it was gone. She'd foregone her last meal, but it had hardly helped. She was still weaker than she liked, and uncoordinated, and no amount of hoping or hard work could get her to start fires or shapeshift, and starving herself was not going to help with that particular problem. A conundrum she would have to work out later.

“Well, I am also very annoyed right now,” she said conversationally, “and when I get annoyed I tend to get hostile. So, sure, send your goons in here. I could use some stress relief.” She slammed her hand as hard as she could on the steel wall, letting it reverbrate around her tiny, completely bare cell. Not even a dent.

“Let's talk about your girlfriend, then,” the voice said back at her, tone sickly sweet. She hesitated. Not that she wasn't concerned about Laura, but she had hoped to get information about where she was, why she was here, what their plans were. Something she could store for later use. And she really, really did not like that tone of voice.

“What about her,” she asked. She could hear the threat in her words and cursed herself internally. Foolish.

“We've been monitoring her very closely,” the voice continued cheerfully. “We get a very large amount of information. Adrenaline levels, hemoglobin, red blood cell count.”

“Get to the point.”

“She's been starving.”

_Shit._

Why would she be starving? Hunger strike? She knew how dangerous that was; she _knew_. It couldn't be on purpose. Or maybe it was. Carmilla had only kept enough blood in the house for them for a couple of days at a time at most so that even if she did gorge herself, there wasn't a lot for her to work through. Jeep kept a lot more supply on hand; maybe Laura was worried that once she started, she'd just drink her way through all of his stores...

“Apparently the rations of blood are low at the blood banks,” the voice continued innocently, and Carmilla nearly curled her lip in a snarl. “Who knew?”

So they were behind _that_ little outrage as well. Difficult children, throwing tantrums and holding their breath until they got what they wanted. The only question was, what did they want?

“It may seem convenient to you to dangle my girlfriend's wellbeing over my head, but it's not her who will pay the price for this. She's young, and has fantastically impressive control issues. If she can't get the blood she needs, then you're better off putting her in a cell. If you don't pull her, people will end up dead.”

“Oh, we know,” the voice chirped.

Carmilla's stomach dropped. Of course. She wasn't here for research, or for torture, or to keep her away from the public. Her scalp prickled uncomfortably, and she felt the buzz in her limbs, the static in her skull, that prequeled hot anger. She could taste it on her tongue.

“This was on purpose.”

There was no answer from the intercom, and her nostrils flared as she gritted her teeth, feeling a hard chokehold on her throat, boiling rage in her stomach. With a snarl she pounced on the bulletproof glass, slamming her fist through it in a couple of quick punches, grabbing the camera in her clawed and angry grip, twisting it until it ripped off. She yanked hard, pulling its entrails from the wall until the wires snapped, and she discarded it violently. Her next target was the intercom, but she only got one good punch in before her door banged open and she felt a row of pin-pricks along her back. Six or seven from the feel of them. That wouldn't be good. She whipped her head around to snarl, baring impossibly jagged teeth, before she fell, woozy and disoriented, to the floor.

“I did say we would have to sedate you,” she heard a prim and cheerful voice, before she dropped her head to the mercifully cold concrete and passed out.

 


	8. Hunger Pangs

Laura was absolutely not staring at LaF's neck.

No, it was that damn chip, tic-tic-ticking away in her spine like it was alive, driving her to distraction, making her gawk. It had nothing to do with the hot ready-meal sitting in front of her, looking at her expectantly. Wait, what?

“Wait, what?”

“Uh, you ok, L? You don't look so hot.”

“Fine,” Laura lied, struggling to get herself under control. She caught Jeep's hard look, and immediately felt guilty.

“Okaaaaaayyy... well, as I was saying, I think Jeep and I have found a way into their security system; we've managed to get access to some of their files, and it's looking pretty promising. We should be able to get you into the building.”

“Good,” Laura breathed. “The sooner the better.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing. Let me know when you get it worked out.” She stood hastily, escaping out the door and into the hall. Her stomach was clenching something awful, and her headache was just getting worse and worse. She was alternating between wanting to sleep forever and wanting to murder everyone she knew. She'd been doing well, before Carmilla had been captured; going longer without, not gulping her food down desperately every time it was offered to her, but this was so far past her limits. She was on borrowed time.

“Miss Laura?”

She turned around with a snarl, lip curling up over sharp teeth, at the sudden intrusion. J.P. stood impassively, watching her with careful eyes.

“Holy... Hufflepuff, Jeep. You scared the shit out of me.” She laughed, trying to brush him off. He only tilted his head, brows raising into a concerned arc.

“You really must eat.”

“I'll worry about that after we rescue Carm,” she insisted forcefully.

“You are putting this household at risk.”

“And if I leave this household, I'm putting everyone else at risk,” she nearly shouted. She could feel the pinpricks of her fangs again, sharp and desperate. “The blood banks are on half rations, so I'm sure as hell not drinking yours, and everyone out there might as well be a walking juicebox! If you have a better suggestion, then let's hear it!”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” he said quietly, leaning in closer, “but LaFontaine and Perry are not going to like it.”

Laura's stomach jerked painfully, sending a shudder all the way up her spine.

“What's your plan?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies on the miss on friday - picked up a second job and have been very, very busy. Two chapters today for being terribly patient. Hope you enjoy! As usual, comments are always appreciated.


	9. Concerning Capture

“I don't know about this, bro.” Kirsch ran a hand over his head, brow furrowed. “This seems really uncool.”

“I know,” Danny groaned, faceplanting into her hands, “but I don't see what other choice we have. She's dangerous, and I don't want anyone getting killed because she can't keep it together. At least if she's contained, that's one less thing to worry about.”

“Bro, when Carm-sexy finds out, she's gonna be pissed.”

“She'll understand,” Danny insisted firmly. Kirsch gave her a skeptical look, but she just shook her head at him. There wasn't any way to explain, really.

“Are you sure we can't just, you know, donate blood or something?”

“See, here's the thing,” she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I did.”

“Really? When?”

“Two days ago. I went and _maybe_ , kind of, suggested that I was worried they would run out, what with the feeding vampires thing. You know what the nurse told me?” A shrug. “'You and everyone else.' Lots of people are donating. Lots more than usual. There isn't a shortage, Kirsch.”

“So... why aren't they handing it out?”

“What do you think is going to happen when you get a bunch of starving vampires in a city together?”

“Uh, well, I guess they'll... oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“So, they're like, trying to..?”

“Yeah.”

“But won't that..?”

“ _Yes,_ Kirsch.”

“Why?”

“Probably so they can round them all up and shoot them in the head.”

They fell silent, Danny massaging her temples while Kirsch looked on with a frown.

“So, uh, what's the plan again?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing this as a way to distract myself from my personal writing, so the upload schedule may fluctuate, though I'll try to do a monday/friday type thing. Comments are always much appreciated, and thanks for reading!


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